


Soldiers

by Cyane (orphan_account)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s04e03 The Final Problem, Eurus is Insane, Eurus's Game, Implied/Referenced Torture, Prompt Fill, Protective Mycroft, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-18 00:17:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9353363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Cyane
Summary: During The Final Problem, in another one of Eurus's little 'rooms', Sherlock sees the man that tortured him in Serbia.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Because, really... TFP just killed me over and over and over. Mycroft was absolutely amazing. Sherlock was absolutely heartbreaking. John was absolutely the glue that held this entire thing together.
> 
> (Except all the Sherlolly was really irking me. And really... no turnout on Irene Adler? That's it? I'm not exactly fond of her, but... no come back?)
> 
> Either way. SPOILERS, obviously.

"Next up!" Eurus's voice droned through the speakers. "I think Sherlock is gonna have to face somebody from a while ago..."

Sherlock and Mycroft shared a concerned look as the three of them entered into the next section of the asylum. Inside was another small room- which seemed even more confining the minute the metal door slid shut behind them. Inside was a metal chair, and tied to it was a man.

John frowned. He didn't recognize whoever was tied to the chair. It wasn't Moriarty, or Magnussen, or any clients John could remember. He glanced at Sherlock and his frown deepened when he realized that both Mycroft and Sherlock clearly knew who they were looking at.

Sherlock had stiffened like a dead cat, his spine going rigged and his breath stopping completely.

The man in the chair was large, with small eyes. There were a number of small bruises on the man's scalp, and a nasty cut along one of his cheeks. 

"Who is he?" John finally snapped, feeling the familiar 'stupid-John-doesn't-know-what-we-do' sense from the two Holmes brothers. "Why is he here?"

Mycroft let out a deep breath. "That, Doctor Watson, is a prime example of a demon under Sherlock's road."

Again, with the ominous metaphors. 

John huffed out. "Sherlock, who is he? How do you know him?"

The detective ignored John completely, his eyes glued to the man in the chair, who was spitting out angry cursing in what sounded like Russian. Eurus's voice crackled out again.

"Look at that. I was worried you wouldn't recognize him at first, brother. After all, the last time you saw him you were on the brink of death. I want to see you kill him. No gun, just like you wanted. With your bare hands. Take your time, tell him whatever you want him to hear."

John sighed. More killing. Sherlock would definitely have a hard time killing someone with his bare-

Sherlock didn't hesitate before walking up to the man and putting a hand on his throat.

"Sherlock!" John said quickly, shocked. 

His best friend slowly turned back to look at him. "What is it, John?"

"You can't... just... who is he?"

Eurus laughed in delight. It set John's teeth on edge. "You never told him, Sherlock? Interesting. Well, I'll do the honors. This, Mr. Watson, is Sherlock's old friend from Serbia. Jim liked this one. His name is Viktor... what a _coincidence_ , his name was Viktor." 

"Serbia?!" John asked incredulously. "Why the hell were you in Serbia?"

Mycroft gritted his teeth. "Honestly, Sherlock, didn't you tell him _anything_?"

"Wasn't necessary," Sherlock bit out, still testing the pressure around the man's neck. "There was no reason to tell him. It was over."

"Tell. Me. What."

"I didn't think you'd want to hear it, at the time, especially."

John threw his hands in the air. "And why not?"

Sherlock glared at him. "Because it happened while I was _playing hide and seek with Moriarty_ , John! Because at the moment, you had barely begun to forgive me! Because I lied to you for two years and I didn't think you'd want to know where I had been!"

Even Eurus was silent after the outburst. 

"I know where you were," John said uncertainly. "You were dismantling Moriarty's network... you were doing that in Serbia?"

Sherlock shook his head. "I was. Serbia was supposed to be simple- it was the last stop. But it didn't go as planned. I failed, and it put me in a damn prison for a few weeks."

Mycroft snorted. "Few weeks? It took me an entire week to get into their ranks, Sherlock. And it had already taken you two weeks to hit the panic button. It was a month." The older brother's voice was full of sorrow. "You were... there... for a month."

John's cheek twitched. "Serbian prison. And you didn't tell me, Sherlock?"

Eurus's laugh echoed through the room. "And that's not all!" She declared happily. "Viktor, here, certainly made it a fun stay. I'm surprised you survived at all, Sherlock."

And that was it. John's jaw dropped and he turned to stare at Sherlock in horror. "You were tortured by this man for a month. And you never told me."

"Unrelated," Sherlock dismissed.

His long fingers tightened against Viktor's throat. 

"Besides, even if I didn't know him, it's the only way to save the girl on the plane. This just makes it easier," Sherlock muttered. The man jerked underneath him from asphyxiation. Spit was bubbling out of his mouth. 

The look of pure hatred on Sherlock's face was unnerving. John was still struggling to come to terms with the fact that Sherlock had been bloody tortured and never thought he would say anything. It explained the little things, though. The flinching when Sherlock first came back. The constant nightmares- screaming in the night. Even Mrs. Hudson had complained about it. 

There was an awful noise coming out of Viktor.

Sherlock closed his eyes, remembering the beat of the pipe against his back like the beating of a drum. Remembered choking and drowning in water as Viktor held his head under. _"Are you ready to talk now?"_ he had sneered. Sleep deprivation like Sherlock had never felt before, and that was saying something. Pure exhaustion, but pain was the only thing keeping him awake. Stinging pain on his back.

He wished John had never found out. Weakness. Stupid. 

But seeing Viktor now, tied up, at _his_ mercy, Sherlock didn't need incentive. This man had tortured, raped, and killed dozens of people- some innocent, some not- before Sherlock, including the man's own wife. This man was evil. This man...

Was dying?

Sherlock only realized what he had done when the man shuddered and then stopped moving. Completely, like a dead animal. Viktor sort of deflated, and then he was gone.

He turned around stoically and looked at John's horrified expression, at Mycroft's sympathetic one. 

"He deserved it," Mycroft murmured softly. Sherlock was well aware that it was guilt speaking. Once Mycroft had rescued him from that damned prison, it was all about apologies and recovery, Mycroft holding him as he turned into a shaking mess; Mycroft washing his hair because Sherlock had a near-panic attack at the thought of getting into the shower or tub. It was a time where they had grown some semblance of trust.

Sherlock nodded shortly. "Do not think too poorly of me, John. Today we are soldiers."

John looked miserable. "I wouldn't, Sherlock. Just- we'll talk about this once we get out of this place."

"It's really nothing, John. Nothing a band-aid and some morphine couldn't fix," Sherlock said. John let himself have a tiny, wry smile in return. Sherlock had some dark humour.

Eurus- who John had completely forgotten about, groaned. "Enough with the melodrama, you can get a room if you get out of here! There's still someone trapped on a pilot-less-plane, if you've forgotten."

Sherlock straightened, not looking back at Viktor.

"Soldiers, for today."

John repeated the action, glancing at Mycroft, who gave him a nod.

"Soldiers."

**Author's Note:**

> Like, a bazillionmillion problems with the plot but hey. I just like bringing Sherlock's torture back, because it was so unresolved. Honestly. I can't imagine Sherlock not having some sort of PTSD. 
> 
> Also, I already headcanon named the guy Viktor, so I thought Eurus might find it interesting that now there are two Viktor/Victors. Eh. Idk.


End file.
